You're The HalfBlood Prince!
by AlmondWithUnicornHair
Summary: Sequel to "Who is the half-blood prince?" Harry has a crush on the Prince and  Snape. When he discovers that that they are the same, he decides to confront the man. Will Harry's wildest dreams come true?
1. Chapter 1

"**You're** **The** **Half-Blood** **Prince!"** **Chapter** **1**

Please read WHO IS THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE?, the prequel to this story. Thanks!

This chapter is a Valentine's gift for those who reviewed the prequel to this story, as well as marked it as a favorite or tagged it for alerts. Thank you for your support! I hope you enjoy this chapter and will be interested in reading the rest of the story!

**Summary**: Sequel to "Who is the half-blood prince?" 6th year, slight AU. Harry has a crush on the Half-Blood Prince and an attraction to Prof. Snape (DADA Prof, formerly Potions Prof). When he discovered that they are one- and- the- same, he decides to confront the man. Will Harry's wildest dreams come true?

**Warnings**: Rated M for a reason! HPSS, Slash, Snarry… In other words, kissing & other very intimate activities (some quite naughty) between Harry & Snape. Additionally, Harry is 16 years old & Snape is his teacher. Also, language, including F-bombs and kinky word-play. Don't like, don't read! You have been warned!

**Disclaimers**: Don't own anything you recognize. Just having some naughty fun with these characters.

**Previously** **in** **"Who** **is** **the** **half-blood** **prince?"**

Harry knocked on the door.

"Enter."

"Professor?"

"Mr. Potter. What is so important for you to interrupt me while I mark essays?"

"I don't mean to disturb you, it's just that –"

"Spit it out Potter."

"Iknowyou'rethehalfbloodprince!"

Silence.

**CHAPTER** **1**

"You disobeyed me, Potter," Snape finally answered silkily. "I told you to forget about the Prince."

"I know, sir. But I _couldn't_ forget about him. I couldn't forget about _you._"

Harry slowly walked towards the Defense Professor's desk, where the man sat with a stack of essays. The coal-black eyes stared at him piercingly.

"I suppose you'll have to punish me, Professor," Harry suggested in a dark tone.

Snape set down his quill. "Suppose? I most certainly will! But whatever should I do with you, Potter? The usual punishments of docking points and detentions do not seem to work on you."

"Well, sir, if you prefer punishment of the _corporal_ sort, I will obediently bend over your desk and accept my punishment without complaint. You could do whatever you feel is necessary to _drive_ the _point_ _home._ Or, if you prefer that I _perform_ an act of _service_, then I could _polish_ your _wand,_ among other _desired_ _services_."

Snape's eyes narrowed, but Harry could see the desire in them. Yes, Snape knew _exactly_ what Harry meant. "And what makes you think that I would let you near my _wand_?"

"I'm _really_ good at _polishing_, sir. I promise that I won't _disappoint_ you," Harry stated confidently.

"And if I decide on such _punishments_, how will I know that you will learn your lesson to not disobey me?"

"I only want to _please_ you, Professor."

"Very well, Potter," Snape finally replied with a smirk and raised eyebrow. "I'm sure that I will need to punish you _thoroughly_ so that, as you put it, I can _drive_ _the_ _point_ _home_. You may begin by _polishing_ my _wand_." Snape's eyes glittered as he stared down the bold Gryffindor in front of him.

"As you wish, Professor," Harry answered, suppressing a grin. "Where do you want me to _perform_ this _service_?"

"Here, at my desk," Snape raised an eyebrow.

Harry approached the front of the desk and then slowly made his way around the side. He was throbbing with excitement but also very nervous. He hesitated.

"My _wand_ is in its usual place. I don't suppose you need help finding it?" Snape teased cruelly.

"No, sir, I believe I can find it without help."

Snape pushed his chair back without getting up, giving just enough room for Harry to get into position. When Harry reached the professor's side, he got down on his knees and crawled under the desk so that he was right in front of his professor's chair. He ran his hands up the man's thighs then groped at the hard bulge between the legs. Snape bit his lip as he suppressed a moan, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. Harry then began to unbutton the man's trousers so he could pull his aroused member out.

Harry woke up. "Fuck!" he hissed. _Just_ _when_ _my_ _dream_ _was_ _about_ _to_ _get_ _really_ _good!_ He was rock-hard and aching for release. He sat up, drew the curtains around the bed, then grabbed his wand and muttered a silencing charm so he would have privacy. He settled back into bed and pulled down his pajama pants. He stroked himself, imagining his mouth on his professor. His mouth watered, wondering how his professor looked and tasted. He knew it was so wrong, but he couldn't stop thinking about and desiring him. He brought his hand to his mouth, licked his palm and fingers thoroughly, then stroked himself some more. The heightened sensation was unexpected – why hadn't he thought to do that before? He licked his hand again, surprised by the flavor of his cock. He moaned, imagining that he was tasting his professor, the Half-Blood Prince, _his_ Prince. He stroked himself faster and pulled at himself, losing himself in the fantasy of giving his Prince a blowjob. It didn't take very long for him to finally climax, and when he did he cried out Snape's name. He was completely spent. He had felt like his mind had exploded. He had never come that hard before. He laid for a few minutes, enjoying the afterglow, then spelled himself clean, pulled up his pants, and went back to sleep with a grin on his face.

AN: Oh, my! Poor Harry – it was just a dream! Will Harry be satisfied with having dreams and fantasies of his Prince, or will he actually do something about it? How does the Prince feel about him and how will he react to such a confrontation? Does the Prince have dreams about Harry? Please stay tuned!

Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

"**You're** **The** **Half-Blood** **Prince!"**

Please read WHO IS THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE?, the prequel to this story. Thanks!

**Summary** &** Disclaimers** posted with Chapter 1

**Warnings**: Rated M for a reason! HPSS, Slash, Snarry… In other words, kissing & other very intimate activities (some quite naughty) between Harry & Snape. Additionally, Harry is 16 years old & Snape is his teacher. Also, language, including F-bombs and kinky word-play. Don't like, don't read! You have been warned!

**Thank** **you** **to** **all** **my** **reviewers!** I really appreciate all your kind thoughts! You made me grin, do a happy dance, and squeal with delight! Yes, I know I'm a bit wicked (the twist in ch.1), but it was fun, right? ! : D I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!

**CHAPTER** **2**

SAME EVENING, IN THE DUNGEONS…

Severus was having a dream of his own.

He was in the library. As soon as he entered the restricted section, he knew something was… off. He stood still, ear trained for the smallest of sounds. A breath. Ha! Potter! In his damned invisibility cloak. Like a bat he swooped in for the kill and yanked the cloak off of the trembling Gryffindor. They were just inches from each other. Potter was panting, eyes wide and looking up at his Professor and Severus was glaring down in return.

"Potter, thought you wouldn't get caught? 20 points from Gryffindor and detention with me."

Potter just stared and panted.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "What? No protest? Not going to plead your case?"

"Why protest? I was bad, Professor. I deserve to be punished," Potter explained obediently.

Severus smirked. "Yes, you are a bad boy, Potter. A naughty boy," he whispered dangerously. "And what was a naughty boy like yourself doing here in the restricted section? Looking for evil hexes so you can terrorize my Slytherins?"

"I was –" Potter looked down and blushed. "I was trying to find information on the Half-Blood Prince. I can't find him anywhere."

"Oh, you have found him all right. You just don't know it yet."

"Who _is_ the Half-Blood Prince?"

"Why do you want to know? Don't tell me you are still obsessed with him. I warned you to be careful about where you place your affections."

"I know, but I can't stop."

Severus leaned in and whispered into Potter's ear. "Do you really want to know? Would it shatter your world to discover it's an evil bastard like the Dark Lord, an old bearded coot like the Headmaster, or a greasy ugly git like myself?"

"You're not ugly, sir," Potter whispered softly.

Severus narrowed his dark eyes. "Detention, now. My office."

They entered his office, Potter following the Professor inside. Severus twirled around, grabbed Potter by the front of his robes and walked him backwards until he was against the wall.

"Now, Potter, tell me. Why when I warned you about the dangers of your obsession did you not stop?"

"I… just couldn't, sir," Potter managed, trembling. His wide green eyes and quivering lips made Severus grow hard.

"And what would you do if you discovered the identity of this Prince?" Severus spat out.

"I don't know," he said weakly.

Severus still had Harry by the robes. He stepped closer to him, leaned his head in and whispered dangerously. "Don't lie to me, Potter. I know you better than that. What would you do?"

Jewel bright green eyes looked deeply into coal black ones. "It would depend on who it was. After all, you said yourself I might be disappointed."

"I did indeed. You're a naughty boy, Potter. You disobeyed me. I told you to forget about the Prince."

"Are you going to punish me?" Harry panted.

"What do you think?" Severus purred. Harry closed his eyes and bit his lip.

"Your punishment begins now." Severus pushed his leg in between Harry's and leaned forward until his thigh barely grazed the bulge in Harry's trousers. "I'm going to give you your worst nightmare, Potter. I'm going to tell you who the Prince is. And you're not going to like it."

Severus paused to savor the anticipation on the teen's face. He looked deep into his green eyes. He pressed his thigh forward and the teen gasped. "The Half-Blood Prince… is me."

Potter closed his eyes. "Yesss," he hissed. Severus grew harder. He loved hearing Potter speak Parseltongue. He pressed his body even closer. Potter opened his eyes. "I wanted it to be you. I hoped it would be you." He lifted his chin up as if to ask for a kiss and wound his arms around the man, pulling him tight against him. "Take me, Professor. Take me. I'm yours."

Severus woke up, groaning in embarrassment over his dream. He didn't have such erotic dreams very often. _Damn_ _you_, _Potter_, _for_ _being_ _so_ _insufferably_ _irresistible_. _You_ _are_ _the_ _ruin_ _of_ _me!_

It had been a very long time since he had ever had such feelings for someone. He hated that of all people it had to be Potter. Son of his enemy and his once-best-friend. His student. _His._ _Student._ He wasn't happy about it. He felt like a dirty old man. But he knew that if he ever had a chance, as unlikely as it was, he wouldn't turn it down. He was starved for love, for affection. He longed for looks of pure bliss, carefree happiness, adoration, and unapologetic desire to be directed his way.

He wrapped his body around his pillow, hugging it tight with his arms, imagining that he was spooning his lover.

And yes… he longed for cuddles. But no one knew that. No one would _ever_ know that.

Except maybe his lover, if he ever had one.

"Oh, what the hell. It's not going to hurt anyone." He still had an hour before he needed to get ready for the day. He had originally planned to ignore his morning wood or perhaps shock it away with a cold shower. But instead he decided to indulge in something he hadn't in awhile. He buried his face into the pillow as he moaned loudly. He stroked, pulled, and rubbed himself, at first slowly and then more frantically. He had forgotten how good it felt. He remembered flashes of his dream and let his imagination elaborate on what would happen next. Most would expect the greasy dungeon bat to be a selfish man who would put his own needs first. But when he fantasized, he most often imagined how he would pleasure his lover, not how he wanted to be pleasured. And that's what he did. That morning he thought about the things he wanted to do most to Potter's lean body, to make that boy pant, beg, moan, and cry out. He bucked his hips and breathed heavily. He imagined what it would be like to cover that lean body with kisses. He wondered whether Potter would like being scratched and nibbled at or would prefer the softer touches of a feather or of fur. He would definitely want to tease him a bit, to increase the anticipation and desire, before finally touching him where it ached the most to be touched. As he stroked and rubbed himself he imagined that it was Potter's cock he was touching. And then he imagined pleasuring him with his mouth while his hands roamed all over his body, to caress, squeeze, and maybe scratch. Those thoughts really excited him. But it was only when he fantasized about cuddling with his love and giving him sweet kisses that he finally climaxed with Harry's name on his lips.

He could be a harsh man. A cruel cold man. Sadistic, even. Everyone knew that. But what most didn't know (ok, everyone but Albus) was that he also had a softer side.

But he would tell no one, _no_ _one_, that the idea of cuddling really gets him off.

Heh heh. : D I hope you enjoyed this. Yes this story will have both HP's & SS's POVs. More dreams/fantasies, as well as awkward moments in class, etc. but eventually there will be an actual confrontation. : D Any special requests… ? **Please** **review** – **Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

"**You're** **The** **Half-Blood** **Prince!"**

Please read WHO IS THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE?, the prequel to this story. Thanks!

This chapter is **dedicated** **to** **my** **reviewer**, **eastwoodgirl**! Thank you for requesting word play in DADA class and including Draco! That fabulous idea inspired my muse to crank this out.

**Summary,** **Disclaimers** posted with Chapter 1

**Warnings**: Rated M for a reason! There is some naughtiness lurking about on this page, including kinky word-play and references to intimate body parts! Be forewarned! This story is Pre-Snarry & Snarry (In other words, kissing & other very intimate activities between Harry & Snape.) Additionally, Harry is 16 years old & Snape is his teacher. Don't like, don't read!

**Thank** **you** **to** **all** **my** **reviewers!** I really appreciate all your kind thoughts! You made me grin, do a happy dance, and squeal with delight! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!

**CHAPTER** **3**

"Why weren't you at breakfast this morning?"

"I overslept."

"Oh… Well, I missed you."

The platinum blond with the ice-blue eyes snickered silently. _Potter's_ _got_ _himself_ _a_ _girlfriend?_ He was in the hallway on the way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He had planed to arrive to class early so he could talk to his godfather, Prof. Snape. But when he heard Potter's and the Weasley Bitch's voices around the corner, he altered his plans.

Draco was always looking for something to tease the arrogant Golden Boy with. And this year Draco has been especially irritated. He has always been the top Potions student but Prof. Slughorn only had eyes for Potter. So when Draco had the opportunity to eavesdrop on Scarhead and the Weasley Slut, he couldn't pass it up.

"So… I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmead with me this Saturday."

"Um, I don't think so, Ginny."

"Why not?"

"I've got a lot of homework this weekend." 

"That's a lame excuse, Harry." Silence. "Oh, I get it."

"Ginny…"

"I thought you liked me but you were too shy to ask me out. I finally get up the nerve and you reject me? You led me on, Harry!"

"No, Ginny. Look, I… I never meant to led you on, but…"

"Didn't you like me?"

"I did. Or I thought I did."

"So what's changed? Found another girl?"

"No! Ginny…" Then the voice softened to a whisper. "I'm gay." Silence.

_What? !_ _Potter's_ _a_ _pouf? !_ Draco's jaw dropped.

"Since when?"

"A long time, I just didn't figure it out until recently. Look, don't tell anyone. Ron and Hermione are the only ones who know."

_Oh_, _this_ _is_ _good!_ Draco thought to himself. _Who_ _would_ _have_ _ever_ _thought_ _that_ _the_ _Boy_ _Who_ _Lived_ _would_ _be_ _the_ _Boy_ _Who_ _Loves_ _Cock!_ And he doesn't want everyone to know!

HPSS HPSS HPSS

Draco strutted into the DADA classroom with a shit-eating grin, plotting to maximize the torture and embarrassment he could cause the Chosen One. Crabbe and Goyle arrived a minute later and asked their friend what he was so happy about. "Potter has a secret. He doesn't want anyone to know, but _I_ found out!" he whispered gleefully.

"What is it?" they asked.

"Ssh! He's a pouf! Don't tell anyone just yet. I've got a plan."

Crabbe and Goyle nodded eagerly and stole glances at the dark-haired Gryffindor. Soon Harry was joined by Ron and Hermione. Two minutes before class most of the Slytherins and Gryffindors were in the room and Draco decided that Operation: Humiliate Potter would commence.

"So, Potter, do you prefer wands or caldrons?"

Harry looked at Draco then rolled his eyes.

"Oi, Potter, didn't your mum teach you it's rude not to answer when someone asks you a question? Oh, right, she didn't! She's dead!"

A few Slytherins sitting nearby snickered. Harry shook his head as it telling himself not to get riled up.

"Potter, I asked you a question. Do you prefer wands or cauldrons?"

Harry sighed. "Well, Malfoy, if you really must know, I would rather cast a spell with my wand than brew a potion, so it looks like I prefer wands." Draco elbowed Crabbe, grinning, and in return, he and Goyle grinned back.

"And how much do you prefer wands? So much that you want to, ah, _handle_ _others_' wands?" putting extra emphasis, hoping his fellow housemates would start to take notice. They did. They sat up, looking curiously from Malfoy to Potter. The male Slytherins caught on first and whispered to the females who blushed.

"I'm perfectly fine with mine, thanks."

The Slytherins snickered at that.

"But are you sure you can _handle_ your wand, Potter? Do you take care of it? Do you _polish_ it?"

At that Harry blushed and his face grew tight with anger.

"Ha! Perhaps you spend more time _polishing_ it than you do _using_ it?" Draco teased, waggling eyebrows suggestively.

Harry glared at him.

"Would you like to polish _my_ wand Potter? If you like wands so much, Potter, perhaps you should polish _all_ of our wands. After all, you might as well be good for something."

Draco grinned wickedly while the other male Slytherins leered, smirked, or raised their eyebrows suggestively. They didn't like the Gryffindor. No, more than that – they hated him. But the idea of a blow job sounded good, no matter who was doing the blowing. The Slytherin boys wondered what Malfoy had up his sleeve. Did he have dirt on Potter and could manage to force Potter into performing services in exchange for keeping a dirty secret? Or was this all just a joke to embarrass him? Either way, the boys were enjoying Potter's discomfort.

Meanwhile the Gryffindors had also started watching with interest but they hadn't caught onto Malfoy's double meaning.

"Come on, Potter, I know you have a thing for wands! Wanna polish mine after class?"

"Shut it Malfoy," Harry yelled. He stood up, whipped his wand out, and pointed it at the Slytherin so quick that he stopped breathing for a moment.

"Detention, Mr. Potter!" Snape drawled as he walked, robes billowing. "See me after class."

Malfoy smirked at Harry. Harry glowered in return and shot a glare at his professor before sitting down.

"And 50 points from Gryffindor."

The lions started grumbling in protest.

"Need I take more?"

The classroom instantly became dead silent.

Prof. Snape lectured briefly on a handful of curses and countercurses and then paired them up to practice. He smirked as he paired up Malfoy and Potter. When green eyes narrowed in protest, he added, "Since you were so quick to whip out your wand for Malfoy earlier I should think you would be delighted."

Draco sniggered at Snape's unintentional joke.

As the Gryffindor and Slytherin dueled, Malfoy continued to taunt Harry when Prof. Snape was not in earshot.

"Gee, Potter, imagine what everyone will think when they read in the Daily Prophet that their beloved Chosen One prefers… _wands_!"

Harry lost it. "That's it, Malfoy." He marched angrily up to the blond, pointing his wand, but before he could do anything, Prof. Snape's venomous hiss stopped him in his tracks.

"Potter!"

Harry paled and Malfoy relaxed his face, trying to look innocent and surprised. Prof. Snape took a look at each of the boys, dismissed Malfoy and the rest of the class, and ordered Harry to stay.

Before Draco turned to leave, he said, "Maybe if you're good enough he'll let you polish his wand." He smirked and strutted away, leaving behind a red-faced Gryffindor.

"What is the meaning of that?"

Harry turned to look at his professor, still flushed from embarrassment. There was no way he was going to tell him the truth. "Er – I don't know. Maybe because you don't have cauldrons for me to scrub."

Snape snorted. "No, unfortunately I do not. Whatever am I to do with you?"

Harry looked up at the man he both loved and hated, was both attracted to and feared. He longed for the man's attentions but was hurt that the attentions were so cold and cruel. He was angry and humiliated by Malfoy's taunts. He tried to get a grip on himself.

Prof. Snape leaned back, resting his arse and hands against the edge of his desk and crossed one ankle over the other. The way he stood caused the bottom of his jacket to open slightly. Harry tried really hard not to look at the bulge in the professor's trousers, but he found his eyes drifting there a few times.

"What is the reason for your aggressive behavior towards Mr. Malfoy? Why were you bullying him?"

"_He_ was bullying _me_!"

"I saw you threaten him with your wand – twice."

"Yeah, that was only _after_ he relentlessly taunted me and I couldn't take it anymore."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Get over it. Grow a thicker skin."

Harry shook his head. "You don't understand, sir."

"I don't understand? _I_ don't understand? !" Cold obsidian eyes narrowed.

Harry looked down, remembering what he saw in the Penseive the year before. "I'm sorry. What I mean is, it's not so much the taunting that bothered me. I was afraid…"

"Of what?"

"That he knows and he might tell others. I don't know how he found out. I only told three friends and they would _never_ tell! Well, perhaps he doesn't know, but if he doesn't then his comments don't make any sense –"

Snape interrupted the Gryffindor's flustered ramblings. "Must you be so indistinct?"

"Er … What?"

"Vague, Potter. What exactly is this all about?"

Harry blushed and looked down. _Must_ _he_ _treat_ _me_ _as_ _thought_ _I_ _have_ _the_ _intelligence_ _of_ _a_ _troll?_

"Well… ?" Snape asked impatiently.

Harry swallowed nervously. "I'd rather not tell you."

The professor rolled his eyes. "Potter, twice I see you threaten a student. You claim that he was taunting you, but if you don't give me more information than that, I will have to assume that you instigated it, not him."

"He was teasing me about wands," Harry mumbled, looking down. "He said I _preferred_ them to cauldrons."

Snape smirked, remembering the jokes his Slytherin housemates told when he was a student. "Mr. Potter, I think what Mr. Malfoy had to say was rather obvious. You never excelled in my Potions class nor expressed an interest in the subject."

"That's not what he meant," Harry mumbled.

"Oh, and what did Mr. Malfoy mean?"

Harry shook his head. He didn't want to tell him, not because of Malfoy. And he didn't trust that Snape wouldn't use it against him. Then again, it was possible that in a few hours time the whole school would know. He took a deep breath. "Why not. Malfoy is probably telling all the Slytherins right now. By dinner the whole school will know and tomorrow it'll be in the Daily Prophet…" Harry huffed. "I don't think Malfoy was being _literal_. He was making… crude-sounding jokes about _preferring_, _handling_, and _polishing_ wands like he was talking about _something_ _else_…"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "He's making jokes as though he thought you preferred blokes," he stated, rather than asked.

Harry nodded uncomfortably, wondering how Snape figured it out so quickly. "And I could see the other Slytherins laughing like they understand what he meant."

"And what of his parting remark?"

"It's nothing, sir," he said quickly. "It's just a continuation of what he was saying earlier. He suggested that I should polish all of the Slytherins' wands."

"I see. And do such jokes bother you?"

"I… I just don't want everyone to know. Or make a fuss over it. And Malfoy… makes it sound… like something I should be embarrassed about."

"Mr. Malfoy is probably taking advantage of the fact that he knows you are raised by Muggles and thus are exposed to the homophobia of their world and assuming that you are unaware of the degree of acceptance in the Wizarding world. I'm sure he and the other Slytherins don't care where your attractions lie, only that you appeared uncomfortable and flustered by the jokes."

Harry huffed.

"There's no need to feel embarrassed."

Harry studied the floor, feeling embarrassed despite what his professor said.

"_If_, and I do mean if, since it is not my business to make such assumptions, that is your preference, you're not alone." He paused. "Everyone assumes that because I am a Potions Master that cauldrons are my tool of choice. But," his voice lowered. "they would be wrong."

Harry's eyes shot up in surprise. His professor stood just as stoic as usual. He wondered if he had imagined it.

"You're dismissed."

Harry didn't move. He hardly heard the man. _Snape_, _my_ _Prince_, _is_ _gay_ _too?_

"Go on, get out. Before I… find some horrible task for you to do."

Harry snapped back to reality. "Uh – about my detention?"

"What detention?" the professor asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, er – nothing," Harry managed, flabbergasted that he didn't have detention after all. _Wow,_ _I_ _can't_ _believe_ _he's_ _really_ _gay!_ He tried not to look at his professor's crotch but he was unsuccessful. He snuck a quick look and unconsciously licked his lips just before he turned towards his desk. He grabbed his books quickly and threw out a "thanks, sir" before racing for the door, hoping that his professor wouldn't notice that he had a raging hard-on.

HPSS HPSS HPSS

The rest of the day was uneventful. Harry was relieved that no one asked him about what happened before DADA class nor seemed to know his "secret." Malfoy looked at him a couple times with a sadistic grin in their afternoon Charms class, but that was all.

All afternoon and evening Harry had a hard time focusing on his classes and participating in conversation with his friends. He kept thinking about Snape. He thought about the lovely bulge revealed by open robes and a jacket that parted in the middle as the man leaned back on his desk. He fantasized being given "punishments." He played out various scenarios of telling his Prince that he knew who he was and that he wanted him. His heart thumped with happiness at the revelation that Snape was gay. But his stomach also twisted whenever he thought about his actual chances of the man returning his feelings. Yes, being gay meant his chances were improved, but really how much so? Harry was no fool. He looked so much like his father, as so many wizards and witches have told him. How could Snape ever look at him with affection, much less ever desire him?

Harry did rein in his daydreams long enough to pull Ron aside after dinner and ask him about being gay in the Wizarding World. Harry was surprised by how casual Ron was being about the whole thing. Ron confirmed that the Wizarding World nowadays didn't make a fuss over it. Then he clarified that some of the really old wizards from pure-blood families looked down upon it, but they also hated muggles and thought arranged marriages were a good idea. Harry asked Ron why he didn't tell him all that before. Ron just shrugged and said, "you didn't ask." Harry realized that Ron probably took his own world for granted and didn't realize how different muggle culture was.

That night Harry wanked as he remembered Snape's soft velvety voice revealing that he preferred wands. He fantasized being given detention and his "punishment" was to polish his professor's "wand." In the hazy afterglow of his climax as he drifted off to sleep he wondered if Snape had a softer, more affectionate side. He had no doubt that Snape would likely be intense and inventive in bed, and Harry was all for that. But he also wanted more. He didn't want to be smothered, but he did long for affection, for sweet soft kisses, and for cuddles. His last thought before sleep claimed him was of Snape curled up around him as they lay in bed together, of pale lips bestowing soft kisses, and of pale fingers lazily running through dark messy hair.

HPSS HPSS HPSS

Severus was thankful that he had only one class that afternoon – but it was a rowdy and hormonal bunch of third year Gryffindors and Slytherins and he wished that he had Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws instead. The class took every bit of his patience and concentration, and even then three students were sent to the hospital wing and a total of sixty points was deducted.

After class he attempted to mark essays but he was distracted by thoughts of a certain insufferable Gryffindor. He took a potion to aid in his focus and rein in a wandering mind. That helped him get his marking done, but he knew it would mean that all those daydreams he tried to avoid were only delayed and would be all the more insistent later that evening.

After dinner he prepared for an early bed-time. The daydreams, more insistent and more vivid than before began to flood his mind just before he crawled into bed. He squeezed his eyes tight, alternately panted and held his breath, and stroked his aching manhood as he thought about blushes, downcast green eyes, messy black hair, and light pink lips bitten nervously. The knowledge that the young man shared preferences added fuel to his fantasies and he brushed off the nagging reminder that just because he liked cock didn't mean that he would like _his_ cock. Severus was not a fool. He knew he wasn't attractive and he knew that his personality was off-putting, to put it nicely. He was cruel to Potter in the past. There was no reason that he could expect that his affections and desires be returned. But then there was a tiny whisper, a reminder that Potter's eyes seemed to look in the direction of his nether regions several times, and one of those times Potter had licked his lips. And what of that expression Potter had when he revealed that he himself preferred "wands?" Despite Severus' tendency to not dwell on impossibilities, he allowed himself to indulge that night. After his climax, hand still on his softening cock, he drifted off to sleep with a whisper on his lips: "Harry."

HPSS HPSS HPSS

Alright, ladies and gents… please leave a review! And if you do leave a review, please enjoy the magical naughty desserts that I have on my writing desk! ; D If you prefer _wands_, I have some chocolate gent-parts (some "cut", others "uncut"). And if you prefer _cauldrons_, I've got chocolate lady-parts. The chocolates are cream-filled and magically responsive to your skills! The more skillful you are at licking the treats, the more the creamy lava flows out. I'm quite proud of the desserts – made them and cast the charms myself. : D


	4. Chapter 4

"**You're** **The** **Half-Blood** **Prince!"**

Please read WHO IS THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE?, the prequel to this story. Thanks!

**Summary,** **Disclaimers** posted with Chapter 1

**Warnings**: Rated M for a reason! There is some naughtiness lurking about on this page, including kinky word-play and references to intimate body parts! Be forewarned! This story is Pre-Snarry & Snarry (In other words, kissing & other very intimate activities between Harry & Snape.) Additionally, Harry is 16 years old & Snape is his teacher. Don't like, don't read!

**Thank** **you** **to** **all** **my** **reviewers!** I really appreciate all your kind thoughts! You made me grin, do a happy dance, and squeal with delight! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!

**CHAPTER** **4**

ONE WEEK LATER

The chatter of the 6th year Gryffindors and Slytherins came to a halt as Prof. Snape stormed into the classroom, letting the door slam behind him.

"It has come to my attention that the Defense professors you have had prior to this year neglected to adequately instruct you on the many terrors you could face when you no longer attached to your mummy's apron strings."

Harry sighed in frustration at the likely-intended jab at Prof. Lupin, who was in fact (alongside Snape) the best professor that they had ever had for DADA. Well, the man who impostered as Mad-Eye did teach them rather useful things too, but Harry did not like to think much of him.

Harry was startled by a jab in his ribs by Hermione and realized that his mind had wandered off. Oh, hell. Snape was looking right at him. Harry swallowed nervously.

"- be to your benefit to pay attention and take this topic seriously."

Prof. Snape tapped his wand on a chalkboard at the front of the classroom and the board filled itself with a list, titled "Household and Garden Pests." Immediately the classroom was filled with snickers, which quickly hushed as the professor's dark eyes glared dangerously.

"Think this is funny? I assure you, when your wand is eaten by chizpurfles or your house collapses from bundimuns, you won't be laughing."

Prof. Snape spent the first half of the class period with a lecture on a variety of creatures which could plague homes and gardens and their removal through the use of potions and charms. At first most of the students rolled their eyes at the subject. But when it was time for them to take their turns at learning and practicing the charms against actual creatures that Prof. Snape had procured for them, they realized just how pesky some of the pests were and how difficult it was to get rid of them.

It was Harry and Ron's turn against the chizpurfles. Ron groaned. "This is a waste of time. Mum has a potion she uses. Works perfectly. Snape is an idiot. We don't need this charm."

Harry had tried to get Ron's attention by elbowing him, but he was too late. Snape had overheard him and was already making his way over to them.

"Ah, but what if, Mr. Weasley, if you did not happen to have a bottle of store-purchased potion on-hand and were too incompetent to brew your own batch? Knowing this charm would then prove rather useful." Snape crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows.

Ron swallowed nervously. "Um, sure. Yeah."

Snape pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at Ron and then turned to look at Harry. "Well? Shouldn't you be practicing?"

Harry sighed and nodded. He stared down at the nasty little pests at the bottom of the small cauldron, spoke the incantation and waved his wand. But in his nervousness his wand slipped out of his hands - and flew right toward Snape.

Snape caught it easily. He curled his lip and rolled his eyes. "Really, Potter, if a few nasty bugs is enough to make you lose your nerve, what will you ever do when you're up against the Dark Lord?"

Harry could feel his cheeks redden in embarrassment. He held out his hand for his wand, but Snape didn't hand it over. Instead he began looking over Harry's wand, as though inspecting it.

"You've been neglecting your wand, Mr. Potter."

"I – what?"

Snape looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "Neglecting your wand. Have you ever cleaned it?"

"Well, sure," Harry replied, thinking it was an odd question.

"Just a quick rub on your robes?" Snape asked with a smirk.

Harry shrugged his shoulder. "Er… why not? It works."

"No, Mr. Potter, it doesn't work." Snape turned sharply and strode up towards his desk at the front, billowing his robes and speaking louder than necessary. This caught the attention of all the other students. "Wands require proper care if they are perform at their best. And if you did have an infestation of chizpurfles in your home? Why, a neglected wand would suffer damage much more quickly than a wand well-cared for."

Once behind the desk, the Defense professor retrieved a potion bottle and a cloth from a drawer. "You have got to use oil – _proper_ oil, mind you, not just any oil. And it is just as important to have a proper cloth."

Snape pulled the stopper from the bottle and pour some of the contents onto his fingers. "Since your wand has not been properly oiled in all these years and your wand has had heavy use, I recommend applying a liberal amount of oil with your fingers."

He ran his fingers along the wand, from handle to tip, and back again on the other side. He gently gripped the handle with his fist and slowly pulled the wand through, twisting it as he did so. Then he used his fingertips, rubbing the wood back-and-forth and in circular motions, making his way slowly from one end to the next.

Harry felt his face flaming. He kept his eyes forward. He had no desire to see Malfoy gloat at his embarrassment.

"Get it into all of the crevices," Snape continued. "Rub the oil into the wand, slowly and thoroughly. Take your time so that the wood can soak it in." When Snape finished rubbing at the tip, he then reached for the cloth. "And finally, rub your wand with the cloth. Again, slowly. Many foolish wizards make the mistake of rubbing their wands too quickly."

Snape gave a fierce glare to the class when he heard some snickering. "But it is best to do it more slowly, with finesse. The purpose is to help the oil absorb into the wood, as well as remove excess oil. Make sure you do a thorough job. You do not want your wand to be too slippery." Again there were snickers but they quickly died when Snape gave another fierce glare.

The professor finished demonstrating, left the cloth on top of the desk, strode back to where Harry stood red-faced, and handed the wand back to him. "Well? Why didn't you already know this?"

"No one told me," he answered quietly.

Snape rolled his eyes and then looked round at the class. "Well, what about the rest of you? Don't you know this? Didn't your parents teach you? Mr. Weasley."

"Uh, yes, Prof. Snape?" Ron asked nervously.

"Did your parents teach you to polish your wand?"

Ron smiled with relief. "Oh! Yes, they did."

"With proper oil and cloth?"

"They probably couldn't afford it!" Malfoy interjected, laughing.

Snape didn't seem to hear the comment. "Well?," he asked Ron.

"Yes, sir."

"How often do you polish your wand?"

"Uh. I think I last polished it a couple months ago."

"Not often enough," Snape pronounced coldly. He turned to face the Slytherins. "Mr. Malfoy, did your parents teach you to properly polish your wand?"

Malfoy smiled smugly. "Yes, sir, they did. I watched my father polish his wand from an early age. When my parents bought me my first wand, father watched me polish my own wand for the first time and said I did it perfectly."

"And how often do you polish your wand?"

"Several times a week."

"Professor," Hermione interjected. "Isn't once a week ideal? I read in _The Official Handbook of Wand and Staff Care_ that for most wiz –"

"I didn't ask for your comments, Ms. Granger."

Snape, to everyone's displeasure, then assigned the class to a two foot essay on how to properly care for one's wand (including, but not limited to, how to properly clean and protect its finish), how proper wand-care relates to a wizard's ability to perform charms, and finally, how wand-care relates to the topics of the day's lesson.

Ten minutes remained of their class period. Snape prowled while everyone returned to practicing the charms they had learned earlier in class. And then, to their great relief, they were dismissed.

As the class filed out of the classroom, Harry felt himself shoved from behind. He turned quickly and glared at Malfoy, who was grinning at him with glee.

"So, Potter, did you enjoy having your wand polished by Prof. Snape?"

Harry immediately felt a rush of anger and embarrassment. "Not as much as I'm sure you enjoyed watching your father polish his!"

The grin quickly fell from Malfoy's face. "You'll regret that, Potter," he spat. He wrinkled his nose and pushed Harry aside. Malfoy ran quickly out the door as Harry and his friends watched.

"Good one, Harry!" Ron exclaimed with a clap on the shoulder.

HPSS HPSS HPSS

Throughout the day Harry thought about what had occurred in Defense class with embarrassment and anger. He wondered why Snape was trying to humiliate him. Again, like so many times before, he cursed himself for being attracted to a man who so obviously disliked him.

And yet, in spite of all that, to have his wand be so thoroughly touched by his Prince was thrilling for him. He guarded his wand jealously, keeping it in his pocket or hand, never laying it down on a desk or dining table like he might have on a normal day.

It wasn't until the darkness and quiet of the dorm-room at bedtime that Harry reconsidered his assumptions.

He remembered the conversation they had after class a week ago. Really, now that he thought about it, Snape had been rather kind. What if the man's cruelty towards him was just an act? And was it just a coincidence that he polished his wand today when dirty jokes were made about that last week? Snape even admitted to preferring wands, as a way of indicating that Harry wasn't alone in being gay. What if he was flirting with him? Harry was amused at the thought.

He smiled to himself and pushed his pajama pants down. He retrieved his wand from under his pillow. Snape had touched his wand. He ran the length of the wand along his chest, imagining that somehow the magic of Snape's touch would be transferred from wand to skin. He hesitated and then trailed his wand down further, all the way down the length of his cock. He shuddered with arousal. He then lined up his wand against his shaft and held it in place with one hand. With the other hand he grasped both wand and cock together and slowly ran his hand up and down, imagining that it was Snape's hands on him. He replayed in his mind the way the man had grasped his wand and pulled the wand through his hand, the way that his fingertips rubbed back-and-forth and in circular motions, from handle to tip. It was oddly exciting to do something so dirty and yet…

He stopped. If he dirtied his wand, it would have to be cleaned, and thus, in a sense, would remove Snape's presence from it…

Harry quickly stowed his wand back under his pillow and resumed his touches, sans wand. He replayed in his mind the wand-polishing demonstration and fantasized that he was ordered to stay after class. He imagined various things that one or the other might say that would result in a polishing lesson of a different sort. When he reached this portion of his fantasy he increased the speed and friction of his strokes until he shuddered with his release.

HPSS HPSS HPSS

Severus couldn't resist. The opportunity was there and he took it. On the surface, in the eyes of his other students, it was an opportunity to insult Harry Potter. But for Severus, it was a way for him to flirt with the foolish boy. He wondered if Harry figured out what he was really doing. And he wondered if Harry minded. As he laid in bed he finally took care of the problem that he had had all afternoon and evening each time he thought about what he had done in class. Having suffered from frustration all day, he didn't waste time with slow and teasing touches. He stroked himself quickly and firmly, all the while shamelessly replaying his wand-polishing demonstration in class, altering the events of the end of class so that Harry was ordered to stay after, and fantasizing that their after-class meeting consisted of the confession of mutual desires and a successful attempt to satisfy them. It didn't take long for him to reach his climax. In the afterglow he wrapped his arms around his pillow and imagined he was spooning his lover and whispering sweet words in his ear.

HPSS HPSS HPSS

Wow, it's taken over a year (nearly two? Eek!) to update this story! I hope that the wait was worth it, for those of you who read the previous chapters when I first posted it! I plan on finishing this story with one final chapter. Hmm.. Will Harry finally confess his knowledge of who the Prince is and his desires for him? How will Severus react? You'll just have to wait and see! I should have the final chapter ready by the end of summer.

Please review! Thanks!


	5. Chapter 5

"**You're****The****Half-Blood****Prince!"**

Please read WHO IS THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE?, the prequel to this story. Thanks!

**Summary,****Disclaimers**** posted with Chapter 1. ****Warnings**** posted in Chapters 1-4. Surely by now you know what to expect!**

**Thank****you****to****all****my****reviewers!**** I really appreciate all your kind thoughts. You made me grin, do a happy dance, and squeal with delight! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter :)**

**Story****Note:**** Well, I thought I would be able to finish up the story with Chapter 5, but I had some new ideas that just begged to be developed, so... plans changed! The confession will take place in Ch 6 (already in progress) - YAY! - and then there will be an epilogue for Ch. 6. I've decided that their intimacy and relationship will be limited while Harry is 16 (chapter 5), hence there will be an epilogue (brainstorming but not written). Work and personal life is keeping me quite busy, but I hope to finish this story by the end of the year!**

**CHAPTER****5**

The next morning Harry came up with a brilliant idea. It was so ingenious he couldn't believe he managed it on his own. Later that afternoon he placed an order for high-quality wand oil and polishing cloth. It arrived by owl the next day. But it wasn't until the next week before he finally conquered his nerves.

When classes were over for the day and most students were either outside, in the library, or in their common rooms, Harry made his way to Snape's office, with wand, oil, and cloth in his robes, and broomstick in his hand. He knocked on the door and waited. He was just about to knock again when he heard an irritated "Enter."

Harry opened the door cautiously, saw that Snape was engrossed in marking papers, and he stepped inside quietly, closing the door behind him.

Snape looked up. He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Potter," he said simply.

"I need your help, Professor."

"There is no doubt about that, although it surprises me that you would come to me willingly."

Harry stood silently under Snape's intense gaze. "I'm willing, sir," he replied. Willing to learn from you, to be with you, in everyway imaginable, he thought.

"What do you need, Potter?"

His chest tightened and grew hot from the possibilities of that innocent question. He wondered if this was such a good idea after all, if he was biting off more than he could chew. He had finally worked up the courage to do this but was now beginning to worry if he would embarrass himself by becoming too nervous or too aroused.

"I need help polishing my wand." There, he said it. And his voice sounded perfectly calm and reasonable. "I mean, I know you demonstrated and explained it in class," he quickly added. "But my eyesight isn't the greatest, so it was hard for me... to uh... make note of your technique," he finished lamely. He felt his face flush when he realized he had used the word "hard." It's just a word, he reminded himself. It doesn't always mean that.

Snape just stared at him.

"And I did some research and wrote the essay you assigned, but... not everything can be learned from a book." Harry bit his lip, feeling foolish.

"You have plenty of housemates who could assist you," Snape pointed out.

"Yes, but, I'd much rather learn from you."

"I see," Snape said after a moment. "Sit quietly and give me a moment."

Harry moved towards the chair in front of Snape's desk and watched as Snape finished marking the essay he was currently on. Harry wondered how much money Snape spent on a year's worth of red ink. After a couple minutes of irritated sighs, indecipherable mutters, and angry scratches of the professor's quill, Snape finally set aside his quill and ink pot and the stack of essays. He folded his arms on top of his desk and looked questioningly at Harry. "Well?"

Harry stared silently into those dark eyes and then remembered why he was there. "Oh, I..." He stood up and reached into his robes. He retrieved the bottle of oil and the polishing cloth. "I got these from an owl order." He placed them on Snape's desk and sat back down.

Snape picked them up, studied them, and gave a small nod. Harry knew that meant he approved. Harry's heart soared. Snape set them back down on the desk and looked at Harry. "You will attempt to polish your wand and I will watch."

Harry felt a surge of excitement and fear. He pulled out his wand and fumbled with the bottle of oil, pouring more than he had intended. ("Careful," Snape warned him.) He then realized that he hadn't thought this all the way through. He had expected Snape to demonstrate as he had before. He wasn't sure now whether he should give it his best, in the hopes that Snape would compliment him, or whether he should bungle it up, so that Snape would give him some assistance. But luckily, he didn't have to decide; his nervous fingers decided for him.

"Oh, for crying out loud," Snape exclaimed, startling Harry. "Are you always so clumsy?" He stood up suddenly and circled his desk.

While Snape regularly invaded the personal space of students in the Potions classroom, peering over their shoulders to monitor their ingredient preparation and the progress of their potion, nothing could have prepared Harry for Snape coming up so close behind, wrapping his arms around, and placing his hands over his own. Harry fought hard to breathe calmly as Snape corrected Harry's technique, at times demonstrating beside Harry's hands, and at other times manipulating Harry's fingers under his own.

Amidst instructions Snape muttered quietly to himself, mainly insults about Harry's intelligence and competence and complaints on the intrusion of his time, but there seemed to be no real venom there and Harry couldn't help but wonder if Snape actually enjoyed the opportunity to be in such close proximity and if the insults were nothing but a way to hide how he truly felt. Of course, that might have been wishful thinking. But if Snape really did detest him, he would have glared and thrown him out of the office with the instruction that he seek help from his housemates. Or, Snape could have easily snatched his wand from him if he wanted to demonstrate. There was no real need to be so close to him, to touch him.

Harry's heart thudded wildly and he could feel his cock straining in his trousers. The nearness of the man standing so close and the touch of his hands was nearly too much. He wanted to say the words. The moment was just too perfect. He wanted to tell the man that he knew that he was his Prince. But the words stuck in his mouth.

"I see you brought your broomstick," Snape said casually.

"Uh, yeah, I was going to go flying afterwards."

"You do realize that broomsticks require similar care, as they are also made of wood."

Harry felt faint. "I figured as much."

"Considering how incompetent you were with your wand, I suppose that you require assistance with your broomstick as well," he stated, rather than asked.

Harry's mouth went dry. "Yes, please," he choked out.

They finished wiping down Harry's wand with the cloth. Snape took the cloth and wand from Harry, reached forward to place them on top of his desk (causing him to press into Harry's back), and then grabbed Harry's broomstick and placed it in his lap. Harry closed his eyes painfully and alternated between hoping that Snape didn't notice his bulge and hoping that he did. Snape poured wand oil onto their hands and they polished the broomstick together.

Harry bit his lip and tried to stay calm. He tried to breathe evenly, to not pant. The sight of Snape's hands on top of his own, both palms slick with oil, moving up and down the thick wooden shaft of his broomstick, was even more erotic than polishing his wand. Harry couldn't help but notice that particular attention was spent on where he sat on the broom. Snape explained that the friction of clothing wears down the polish. Harry swallowed hard and prayed that he wouldn't embarrass himself in Snape's presence. And those words he so wanted desperately to say were still stubbornly lodged in his mouth.

"There, done." Snape moved away from him quickly and returned to his desk chair. Harry stared as Snape busied himself by organizing stacks of essays. "Potter, we are finished. Take your things and go."

Harry felt a pang of disappointment at the cold tone and Snape's refusal to look up at him. But then he realized that it probably was for the best that he make his exit without his hard-on noticed. He stowed away his wand, oil, and cloth in his robes before standing, and held his broom in front of himself as he did so. He turned away to conceal his shame and looked back over his shoulder. "Thank you, Professor. I really appreciate it."

Snape finally looked up and their eyes met. The dark eyes seemed to pierce Harry's with an intense heat, very similar to, but not quite the same as his usual angry glares. "Duly noted."

Harry gave the man an awkward smile and left the office. He immediately retreated to the nearest boy's restroom, grateful that he passed by no one on the way and that he had the room to himself. He had a problem that needed attending to. Afterwards, he was going to go outside and fly on the broom they polished together. He knew that in the darkness of his dorm that night, he would be reliving everything that happened in the office, the nearness of the man's heat, the tingles that his touch gave, the tickle of his breath, the sight of their fingers, their hands, wrapped around and rubbing on his wand and broomstick, not to mention the suggestiveness of his words and the voice that was richer and silkier than a bite of dark chocolate... He hated that he wasn't able to say what he came to say, but the visit wasn't a total waste. Not at all.

Meanwhile, Snape retreated to his private quarters to take care of his own problem, grateful that his official office hours were over for the day and he had plenty of time before dinner to relieve himself thoroughly and wash up afterwards. Yes, it was a problem that could have been avoided. But the opportunity was too perfect to pass up. That Potter boy was going to be the death of him.

HPSS HPSS HPSS

Please review, thanks! Your positive feedback keeps me motivated! :)


	6. Chapter 6

**"You're The Half-Blood Prince!"**

**Please read "Who Is The Half-Blood Prince", the prequel to this story.**

**Big thanks to all of my reviewers, followers, and readers! I know it's been awhile since I last updated. I appreciate your patience! I wish I could update more quickly but work keeps me rather busy!**

**Summary, disclaimer, and warnings posted in previous chapters.**

**In this chapter: Finally, the confession! Harry will reveal to his Prince that he knows who he is! How will the Prince react? **

**After this chapter there will be just one more posting (the epilogue). About a third of its written already so hopefully it won't take too long to finish.**

**I hope you enjoy!**

**CHAPTER** **6**

HPSS HPSS HPSS

Several days later...

As Harry and his friends made their way towards the Potions classroom, they passed by a group of third-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws grumbling and complaining. When they caught "greasy git" and "right bastard," the three looked at each other in surprise. Hermione stopped one of the Ravenclaws. "Excuse me, did you just come from Professor Slughorn's class?"

The Ravenclaw made a face. "Potions. But Professor Slughorn is sick. Snape is substituting." She scurried off, as if she couldn't wait to escape the dungeons.

"Great! Just what we need," Ron exclaimed sarcastically. "As if Potions wasn't a difficult enough subject as it is. Too bad you don't have the Prince's book, Harry."

"Yeah," he responded, feeling a mixture of excitement and fear.

Hermione sighed. "We'll be fine, Ron, we just need to follow the directions carefully and not rush through any of the steps. Don't give Snape any reason to dock points or give detention."

"Easy for you to say," Ron muttered quietly.

When the rest of the class discovered that Snape was substituting for Slughorn, the Slytherins were as excited as the Gryffindors were disappointed. Snape certainly lived up to their expectations. He complimented Malfoy's efforts, quietly gave a bit of direction to a few of the Slytherins who had difficulties with their potions, and he stalked the classroom, sparing no criticisms for stirring and chopping techniques, most especially for the Gryffindors.

Harry tried to concentrate on his potion, but the dark silky voice was very distracting to him. He snuck glances as he diced roots and powdered dried leaves. He enjoyed the work; it was almost relaxing

He smiled as the man in black approached him silently and leaned over him from behind to inspect his potion.

Harry whispered, "I know you re the Half-blood Prince."

"And ? Are you disappointed?" Severus asked softly, his breath tickling his ear.

"Not one bit."

Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his ribs.

Harry jumped in surprise and knocked over an empty vial, which fell to the floor and clattered loudly.

"Bugger!" he exclaimed.

"Language, Potter! Abandon your adolescent fantasies and mind your potion, or you'll be serving detention!"

Harry looked up. The professor was standing at the front of the classroom. He turned his head and saw Hermione looking at him with narrowed eyes.

"Pay attention!" she hissed.

He shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably. "Sorry," he whispered.

She opened her mouth and then closed it quickly, as if she were going to say something and changed her mind. She turned back to her potion. Harry sighed. He was embarrassed at having been caught daydreaming and hoped he hadn't ruined his chances at a decent potion. He picked up the vial from the floor, unbroken as all of their vials were protected with a Shatter-proof Charm. He then read over the instructions on the board. With a quick glance at his ingredients he decided he was ready to start adding them to his cauldron.

He tried to focus on following the instructions while adding ingredients, and not look at Snape like he was tempted to do. But while stirring, especially for long periods, he just couldn't help himself. Twice Snape was glaring at him, but the rest of the time he was stalking around the room, monitoring the progress that other students were making.

When Snape was two tables away, Harry still had a couple more ingredients to prepare and add while Hermione was nearly ready to bottle her potion.

"Done already?" he exclaimed quietly.

"You wouldn't be so far behind if you kept your mind on your work," she scolded in a whisper. She gathered up her supplies and left to put them away in the store room.

Meanwhile Snape was heading his way. Harry gulped and looked down. He clumsily picked up his pestle and began to grind the winterfly wings into a powder. His skin prickled as Snape approached and leaned over his shoulder to inspect his potion.

"I know you re the Half-blood Prince," Harry whispered almost inaudibly. Immediately he wanted to die. The words had just fallen out of his mouth and it was too late to take them back. He had wanted to tell the man for so long, but now that he had finally done it, he was afraid.

"Your arrogance is astounding, Potter," Snape replied softly.

The man didn t sound angry. Harry took his chances. "You were wrong. I m not disappointed."

Harry turned his head slowly. They looked into each other s eyes, unblinking. The professor stood up straight and walked away.

"Potter, that potion is a dismal failure. See me after class," Snape drawled as he made his way back up to the front of the room. "You have five more minutes to finish your potions and submit a vial of it," he announced to the entire class.

Harry resumed preparation on the last ingredient angrily, so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice Hermione return. He didn't think that Snape's criticism was fair. But then Harry realized that Snape might have said that in order for them to have an excuse to talk in private. Those five minutes felt like five hours to Harry. He couldn t decide if he was more nervous or more excited. He fought the urge to look at the professor; he needed to focus op on finishing his potion...

He bottled his potion just in time. He joined a crowd of students turning in their vials and busied himself by putting away his potions supplies and equipment as slowly as he possibly could while everyone else scurried around. Hermione ignored him but Ron gave him a look of grave sympathy and clapped him on the back. After everyone left the classroom, Harry made his way up to the front of the room where the dark-eyed man stood by the desk, arms folded, eyebrows furrowed, and looking meaner than an offended Hippogriff. Harry grew hard from the intense unwavering stare. He wondered if perhaps there was something wrong with him that made him so attracted to someone who seemed to take pleasure in being cruel to him.

"Explain." The voice was cold and flat.

"Er... Explain what, sir?"

Snape stared for a moment without changing expression. "You disobeyed me. I believe I made it clear why you should forget about the Prince."

"I know... Sir... But I couldn't! I couldn't stop thinking about him. I had to know who he was!" Harry shyly took a step closer. "When I discovered it was you, it all made sense. And I wasn't disappointed! I'm glad it's you."

Snape continued to stare intensely. Harry felt a strange sensation he sometimes felt when Snape looked into his eyes. He wondered if Snape was using Legilimency. He hoped so. He kept his chin up and met the man's eyes, hoping that he would see his sincerity. He didn't even mind the thought of Snape seeing his fantasies, as embarrassing as it would be, if that's what it took for Snape to consider a relationship between them.

"Potter, these are dangerous times. You need to be careful about whom you trust, what you assume-"

"But I _can_ trust you! And I don t _assume_ it, I _know_ it s true."

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"I suppose your lack of disappointment at this _assumption_ of yours is due to your relief that your precious Prince wasn't the Dark Lord-"

"No! I mean, sure, I'm glad it's not him, but it's more than that. I'm glad that it's _you_."

Harry took a shaky breath. He continued to stare back at Snape. He knew he could be wrong but he couldn't help but think that Snape's eyes had softened a bit and had a look of curiosity. And he couldn't help but conclude that if he had no chance at all with Snape, that Snape would not waste his time with this. He would have simply chewed him out for disobeying him, insisted that his conclusions were wrong, criticized his lack of judgment, and assigned detention. He would not have bothered with questions and without a doubt he would have sneered most cruelly. Harry felt a surge of confidence. "I think you're brilliant. You're smart, creative, funny. The way you improve the potions and the comments you make about the author. The spells you invented. The way you make your robes billow and whirl. Everything you do, you know, for us. Your potion making skills, your dueling skills. You're bloody amazing!"

A dark eyebrow rose by a fraction. "Potter, if this is a lame attempt to bribe me into giving you an "O" for your NEWTs, you are horribly mistaken. You will have to earn it just like everyone else."

Harry blinked."What? No! That's not why I..." He shook his head. "I'm interested in you. I want to get to know you." He took a deep breath. "I would like to become friends. And maybe, if it works out, something more." He licked his lips nervously and forced himself to keep his eyes on the dark ones before him. "I'm attracted to you."

Snape seemed unaffected by what he admitted. His expression didn't change at all. "Don't be ridiculous," he whispered after a few awkward moments of silence.

Harry's heart thudded with excitement. He was feeling more confident than ever. He shook his head. "I wouldn't lie about something like this. And I'm not mistaken. I know my thoughts and I'm not confused about how I feel or how my body reacts to you. I do have feelings for you and I am attracted to you. I think about you in my bed every night. Use Legilimency or Veritiserum if you don't believe me."

Snape suddenly stepped forward and grabbed Harry's robes with both his hands. His face was just inches away. The nearness of the man made it difficult for Harry to breathe.

Snape stared deeply into Harry's eyes. "I will not repeat myself so listen carefully," he said softly. "One, you are an underaged student. There are rules against relations, intimacies, and harassment between teachers and underaged students. Two, you being attracted to me is as likely as me being attracted to you. Everyone knows that. And three, if you play with fire, you risk getting burned. You shouldn't act without thinking about the consequences and knowing what you are getting into. Do I make myself clear?" Snape's eyes bore into Harry's more intensely than earlier.

Harry was stunned and at first hurt by the words. But then he realized that there was no malice in Snape's expression nor tone. Yes, he was underaged. He hasn't thought it through before, but now that it was brought up, it made sense that there would be rules. Snape can't admit outright that he felt the same, but that second statement was practically a declaration - that is, assuming that Snape could tell that Harry was being truthful that he was attracted to him. He wasn't going to lose hope. But what did that last part mean? A threat of punishment if he's lying, or a warning that he's a more passionate or difficult lover than he's expecting?

"Do I make myself clear?" Snape repeated.

Harry swallowed. "Yes, perfectly clear, sir." He paused. " I will just have to wait until this summer."

Snape continued to stare and grip his robe tightly. It did seem to Harry, though, that Snape's eyes narrowed slightly as if in curiosity.

"I'll be seventeen on July 31st," Harry added with a small smile.

"Age is just a number, Mr. Potter. Maturity, wisdom, and responsibility is quite another."

"I'll remember that. Sir." Ah, maybe Snape's warning him that he'd better be serious, not just looking for a fling, if he pursues him, and indicating that he'd only be interested in him if he becomes more mature. Harry ponders that. Is he too immature, too much of a teenager? Is he ready to be more like an adult? Harry decides that yes, he is ready to grow up. And it's not just for the chance to have a real relationship with the man standing before him. He's nearly of age the Wizarding World and he's expected to play a big part in destroying Voldemort.

Snape released his robes, took a step back, and whirled around. "You are dismissed," he said firmly, his voice a little louder than earlier.

Harry stood still and watched as his professor reached the desk, made his way around it, and begin to organize the glass vials that were turned in by the class.

"Potter, you are dismissed. Go now before I start docking points," the man said firmly without looking up.

Harry smiled to himself. The conversation didn't go like he had fantasized, but it went pretty well considering how it could have gone. He left the room with a spring in his step. He would be playing back that conversation many times in the future, while daydreaming and laying in bed. His next birthday wasn't going to come soon enough.

He checked his watch and breathed a sigh of relief. He had just enough time to take care of his not-so-little problem in the boys restroom before grabbing a snack and getting ready for Quidditch practice.

HPSS HPSS HPSS

Meanwhile in the Potions classroom, Professor Snape tried to focus on his task of organizing trays of vials and stacks of essays for Professor Slughorn. He controlled his breathing, willed his body to calm, and with that his urgent erection soon wilted. He did not wish to indulge in such bodily pleasures until evening when the day was through.

When finished he quickly strode through the hallways to his own office. He closed and locked the door and added several privacy charms for good measure. Only then did he collapse into his chair and rest his head in his hands. His body shook with heavy breaths and chest convulsions, his body unable to decide whether to laugh or cry.

Harry was attracted to him! Severus would never have believed it if he hadn't seen for himself in Harry's eyes. But that wasn't enough to act on. Really all he could be sure of was Harry's sincerity, of his attraction and desire. There was no way of knowing how fleeting the emotions were, whether there was something more substantial like love and devotion, nor whether they would truly be compatible with each other. Compatibility in the bedroom was one thing, but in life was quite another. Severus could not remember the last time his heart pounded with such giddy excitement. The idea that someone, anyone, could desire him was unbelievable and intoxicating... even if it didn't last...

And then Severus stopped short. Harry wasn't attracted to _him_. Rather, Harry was attracted to the author of marginalia - hardly an appropriate basis for romantic attraction much less a meaningful relationship. Harry is a fool if he thinks he knows him just from reading one of his old schoolbooks. Severus sighed and wondered if Harry would still think as much of him if he really knew him.

That conversation was one of the most exciting and also scariest of his life. He was so afraid of revealing how he felt. He couldn't take the risk in case Potter wasn't being entirely truthful or if his feelings, while sincere, did not last. But he didn't want to throw away a chance for happiness. So... He gave some hints. He hoped that Potter was clever and attentive enough to figure it out. He was quite proud of himself for how he handled it. What he said could just as easily suggest that he _did_ and that he did _not_ return Potter's feelings. He was so thankful for his many years of self-discipline to not go about life wearing his emotions for all to see. That came in great use today.

At dinner Severus conversed with both Minerva and Horace, who by then was feeling much better. Several times he felt the uncomfortable sensation of being watched. He resisted the urge to see who it was, having his own suspicions, but after awhile he finally gave in. It was Harry. The young man was looking at him with what looked like nervousness or hope. Severus refrained from scowling, frowning, narrowing his eyes, and his other usual expressions. Instead, he simply looked back in return. Then he crinkled his eyes and tilted his head ever so slightly. Harry smiled softly. Severus felt a twitch at the corner of his lip. He quickly looked away and took a bite of mashed potatoes.

That night, under bedsheets and multiple privacy charms, two young men in opposite corners of the castle relived the conversation from earlier that day. They took their turgid members in hand and stroke them slowly, considering the possibilities that lay in store for them that summer, wondering what it would be like to kiss the other, wondering what it would be like to take each other to bed for the first time, wondering if a relationship between them had any potential of working. Each of them wondered if the other was also in bed doing the very same thing. Slow strokes gave way to quicker ones until the sigh of much needed release. Pillows were clutched as they drifted off to sleep, with thoughts of cuddles and sweet kisses.

HPSS HPSS HPSS

TBC... Just one more chapter left (the epilogue) and yes I am absolutely sure about that! About a third of it has been written already. :) And for those of you who were disappointed that this chapter was on the tamer side, I think that the epilogue will more than make up for it ;)

Please review! Thanks!


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